an old writer and his words

  • CARNEY BARKER

    You there, walking along the midway come into my tent, for only a dollar I will show you wonders beyond your meager comprehension but this offer is only good for the next fifteen minutes for that is when I start my show, It’s not something you want to miss. I know you’ve seen quarters pulled…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR ETERNITY

    Mother goneresting perhaps next toher daughter who lingereduntil even she grew tiredof battling the cells thatwere slowly consuming her,now with someone to continuetheir argument for the restof eternity.

    Lou Faber

  • BLESSED

    Barchu, for the slugs of the Chinese knockoff AK47 which tore through his legs, twisting to avoid the artery and nerves. Barchu, for the moon hanging in the frosted night seeking shelter in the mist cutting into me, lashing me to reality. Barchu, for their memory the small circle of candles that burn eternally in…

    Lou Faber

  • SONNET TO A PORTUGUESE

    You came into my life last week, your nameforever locked away inside her mind.My life, she felt, would never be the sameand therefore left all thought of you behind.You loved her, I suppose, that summer nightthen left her, bearing me, until she turnedme over for adoption, that she mightforget the love that you so quickly…

    Lou Faber

  • CHURCHES

    I have already visitedcountless churches basilicas, shrinesand admired the art, the simple beauty,free of liturgy and belief. I did not stopto pray, to implead, merely to see,to listen, to absorb. for I was a Jew.a nonbeliever in a Christian worldsilently tolerated. Now, I have learnedI was only half Jewish, half, hidden a polyglotof Christianity, a…

    Lou Faber

  • INJECTION SEAT

    Another day, another needle,it is the cost of growing older,I suppose, and does beatthe alternatives, but still,I am growing tired of feelinglike an underappreciated pin cushion. And please, it is not necessaryfor you to smile while pushingthe needle into whateverbody part wins the prizeas that day’s recipient, leaveme to decide whether to smile. And I’m…

    Lou Faber

  • FLIGHT

    As a young child, I always imaginedmyself a bird, poised to take wingthe next time my parents told meI couldn’t do what I wanted,to swoop around, out of their grasp,until it was time for lunch or dinner. Years later my dream was to bea pilot, Air Force not Navy, I mightget seasick and that isn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • A LITTLE DRUMMER

    It seems less than fair that as a childI was Jewish to the core, adopted, yes,but certainly fully Jewish and not merelyby maternal lineage which would suffice. Christmas was alien to me then, evenwhen I left Judaism behind, a shadowthat would follow me closely intomy Buddhist practice and life. But DNA made a liar of…

    Lou Faber

  • CAREER CHOICES

    We were certain then that we’d bea success in life, that we’d drivethe kind of cars our fathersonly dreamed of as our motherschuckled about mid-life crises. They spoke about sons and daughtersof friends who were doctors,or at least lawyers, bemoanedthose who taught or held jobsthey called manual labor. But we were going in a whole…

    Lou Faber

  • WRITING MY STORY

    With the stroke of a pen,they enabled me to write the story,gave a framework on whichI could hang all mannerof dreams and assumptions,inviting a search I neverquite got around to making. I wandered the beachesof Estoril in my dreams,stalked the avenues of Lisbon,looking for a familiar face,but found only ghosts. With the stroke of a…

    Lou Faber